Alfred Tennyson with his Sons 1865

Editor: So, here we have Julia Margaret Cameron's photograph, "Alfred Tennyson with his Sons," from 1865, printed in gelatin silver. It feels incredibly intimate, but almost haunting at the same time. What strikes you most about this work? Curator: It's the pre-Raphaelite mood, wouldn't you say? Cameron adored the artistic possibilities of out-of-focus printing. Look at the soft light, as though we’re glimpsing a scene from a dream – or perhaps from a Tennyson poem itself? Her portraits often possess a raw emotionality – she seemed to catch souls, rather than simply record faces. Editor: Absolutely! It feels like she's capturing their essence rather than aiming for a crisp, clean image. Curator: Essence... yes, a beautiful word. She wasn't after technical perfection, and was even criticised at the time. But isn’t that the beauty of art? To eschew the clinical and seek deeper truths? Editor: That’s such a great point! There's a certain vulnerability in the lack of sharp focus, and it humanises them, and makes them all the more endearing. Curator: And the sons flanking their father like supporting players in a family drama. Notice their expressions. Is there yearning in their eyes? I imagine there's a story lurking behind each averted gaze. It asks as many questions as it answers, no? Editor: It certainly does! Thanks; I think I will go ruminate on it awhile! Curator: My pleasure. It's always worth remembering that, beyond the subject, Cameron was crafting her own visual poems. Each portrait a testament to the beauty of imperfection, and her artistic daring!